


The Seasons Between Us

by youhavewings



Series: It Shouldn't Have Been This Way [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-25
Updated: 2013-09-25
Packaged: 2017-12-27 14:58:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/980262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youhavewings/pseuds/youhavewings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ten and five days into his journey home, the Wolf hears about the Fall of the Leaf. AU for the Kyuubi Massacre. Drabble series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fall

**Author's Note:**

> A series of related old drabbles that were written while procrastinating ... they decided they wanted plot.

October

There is no need to dress up in costumes, to celebrate the supernatural. All shinobi know that the line between living and lived, life and existence, is too thin, too intangible. There are souls with no bodies and bodies with no souls at every turn. Demons are an inescapable reality when they're twenty stories high and cloaked in fire, laying carnage to your home.

On October tenth, the Fourth Hokage drew the seals and opened a portal to the netherworld. No one was shocked, not really. Not even those who watched Sarutobi Hiruzen give himself up to the reaper. Shinobi know what Death looks like; it's not black but white. Empty eyes, lips leached of life, pale skin stretched taut over a rack of bones.

Only the living wear black.

...

November

Ten and five days into his journey home, he hears about the Fall of the Leaf. Panic grips him hard and tight, coils right around him before he springs forward in a punishing pace. He knows he will be late anyway - tundra land surrounds him as far as the eye can see. This strip is No Man's Land and there is little life out here. For news of the Leaf to have spread so far ...

A barren forest greets him on his return. He's almost managed to skip Fall and go straight to Winter. The last leaves are fluttering to the ground; some of them are fiery and defiant to the end, they will never fall. A scabbing wound flares to life, breaking open as he leaps through the window and squeezes through the dusty window frame. His bones have lengthened, and his shoulders broadened again. It will take a while to train himself to adapt to the change but the greater reach will benefit him once he's done.

There is an order to life in the Leaf. It's not quite home but not quite anywhere else. There are rules here that he only breaks sometimes.

This will be his first normal day in a year. A shower, five hours of sleep, and a hot meal. When it cannot be staved off any longer, he returns to the Stone. He's two sentences into the story of his year long mission to the Snow when a sob catches him off-guard. There's a small figure slumped behind memorial, trying to cry. He's not used to company here. Most shinobi visit at night, or at dawn. Kakashi prefers mid-morning, when the rest of the village is busy with life.

That's right, there are new additions. He forces himself to look down, searching for the familiar characters, the ache in his chest mounting with every moment. A hand marks Obito's name, just over the center of the list. There are so many new etchings and his eyes blur over them all. He's looking for just two. He braces himself for one but when his knees buckle, it's really because he's found the other.

Obito, I've failed you.

The soft cloth grows damp and clings to his face in grief. Take care of Rin. Such a simple command. And he'd failed failed failed in every single way imaginable. He hadn't even tried, not really, not at all. He's hollow inside out and incapable of saving anyone. Not Rin, not Obito, not sensei.

The child is at his side now, having given up mourning in favor of watching him crumble on hands and knees. If he had any pride at all, this would be the time to leave, but there's no room left for anything else and he reaches out, his fingers scrabbling over newly cut grooves for confirmation.

He trembles over the last name before realization (relief, chased by guilt) hits him hard and he crashes to the ground. The mask is sopping wet now, tears dripping down into the cloth wrapped around his neck. Slowly, he draws himself back up, kneeling in front of the Stone in reverence.

Unexpectedly, it's grief and not respect that bows his head as he rests a palm on the newest addition.

Sarutobi Hiruzen.

...

December

Chill rain soon gives way to hard, cold snow that gets into everything and is impossible to ignore. The village is still rebuilding, still in mourning. Death is part of life and none know it better than those who have spent their lives in the hidden villages. But it is not every day, not every week or month or year, that they lose a leader.

Sarutobi Hiruzen had been a Hokage for the lifetimes of many of the Leaf. He had outlived many of his charges, and many more had thought that he would see them off as well.

His successor is the tall, grim-faced Namikaze Minato who ascended to the position months before the Sandaime's death. The Leaf follows him without question or hesitation. This is Konoha's Yellow Flash, their ace that won the War, and he has their unwavering loyalty.

Those who knew him before the War remember a loud, brash brat with messy blonde hair, clumsy feet and too-big dreams. Every Leaf shinobi who survived the War has a Yellow Flash story. And after the Nine-Tails Attack, every Leaf villager near worships the ground he walks on. In the rest of the shinobi world, his name is renown and once more people know to fear the Leaf.

Uzumaki Kushina, dead and buried just weeks ago, knew Namikaze Minato and the way he loved ramen, loved red hair, loved forests, loved inventing, loved her and his village above everything else. She knew how he snored at night and could fall asleep during sex because he was the Hokage and a stubborn man who refused to delegate; he woke up sometimes crying for his dead students and dead comrades and tried to never ever let her know. She knew how he pretended to daydream when he was really watching the Konoha gates, waiting for a flash of white hair to signal the return of a mentor or a disciple, his only family before her.

Of those who called him Sensei, only his first student still breathes. It is winter, nine weeks and four days since Kushina's death, when he reads a mission report and realizes this.

"Get me the Wolf," he rasps out to one of the ANBU standing guard and it's as easy as that. Perhaps, it is the only easy thing about being the Hokage.

One look is all the Wolf needs to know the Fourth is not sleeping, not eating, hanging onto life by the fingers of a newborn babe and piles of paperwork.

"You returned earlier than expected," is all Minato can say to the boy in front of him; he doesn't apologize for Rin, doesn't tell him about Naruto. The Wolf just nods; doesn't ask about Kushina or Rin or even the Sandaime. Here and now, with the Hokage's desk between them, they are nothing more than shinobi and lord.

The debriefing could have taken less than half an hour, could have been done by someone else. The Wolf lingers for a moment too long before he brings out a parcel, wrapped carefully in shiny silver paper. "For your son," he places the gift on desk. The Hokage stares at it and the Wolf bites his lips, thankful for his masks. "I know this isn't the right time or place, but, I went to your old apartment and it was deserted, and I didn't know when else I'd get to ... congratulate you," Kakashi tries his best to explain.

The smile that slowly spreads across Minato's haggard face is worth it. To any other person, the awkward rush of words would just seem a strange contrast to the clipped and precise report the ANBU Wolf had delivered moments ago. But Minato, once jounin-commander of the disbanded Cell 7, knew how rare it was was for Hatake Kakashi to (almost) stumble over his words. Kakashi was actually flustered and Minato wishes he had a camera, wishes the damn masks were off.

"Thank you," there's life in those blue eyes now, "But I think you should give Naruto his gift in person."

"Naruto?"

That gets a genuine laugh. "Yes, after Jiraiya-sensei's character."

Kakashi snorts in disbelief. He knows Sensei; he's had to sit through enough ramen lunches and dinners because of the man.

"Hey, it's not a bad name!"

Kakashi just folds his arms in mock disapproval. A knock on the door makes him straighten his back and drop the insubordinate pose, once more the consummate picture of a Leaf shinobi. He doesn't miss the way Minato's face tenses at the interruption. Minato looks at him then, past the porcelain mask and the cloak shrouding his form, and smirks, "You've grown taller."

"That tends to happen," Kakashi replies drily, glad that no one can see the upturned corners of his lips and the warmth spreading through him. The knock comes again and the Hokage lets out a soft sigh.

"I'd better see to that. But I'm serious, you should visit Naruto. The Skink can take you," he waves at the guard positioned outside the window. Kakashi nods his assent before he follows the Skink into the bowels of the Hokage Tower. The Yondaime watches until Kakashi's chakra signature blends into the crowd of paper-pushers, nodding absently to the Chuunin who was laying out proposals for attention.

30.10.2010

 

 

 


	2. First Frost

January is the time of renewal, a fresh beginning to a new year and it's welcomed with much fanfare in Konoha. Even (some) shinobi know how to let loose and party in January.   
  
But for the Kage and the diplomats, there is no rest. Three years since the end of the War, and the peace talks haven't drawn to a close. It's hard work hammering out treaties and agreements, trying hoping praying that this time some semblance of peace will last longer. The latest round has just concluded and the Yondaime Hokage isn't so sure there is a world outside the walls of the Hokage Tower anymore.  
  
Cold air howls at him, tearing through the scant protection of his cloak the instant he steps out and he contemplates teleporting home. If this is what the world looks like, perhaps he might have been better off locked in that room with old warhorses who looked down their noses at his age and his lack of pedigree. He's forgotten how much he hates winter; summer is his season.   
  
To his consternation, he has to concentrate harder than usual to reach the seal under the front door mat. All the paper work must be making him soft. The sentiment returns in force when he wanders into the living room and is greeted by an unexpected sight. Naruto's face is relaxed in sleep, half-hidden against the chest he's using as a pillow. His babysitter is sprawled out on the couch lazily, an arm tucked under his head and a book obscuring half his face. The slender Jounin is dressed in nothing but socks, boxers and a thin shirt, looking more like a callow youth than one of Konoha's finest.  
  
"You're dressed for summer?" The book peels away and Kakashi arches an eyebrow.  
  
"You're alive?"  
  
Minato cracks a small smile, stomping his feet to warm himself as he shrugs out of his formal wear. "Yes, and I'm freezing to death already. How can you stand it?"  
  
"It's laundry day, I didn't have a choice," the book descends again and Minato frowns at the sight of the orange cover.  
  
"You're reading that in front of Naruto?"  
  
"He can't read yet."  
  
"B-But, the pictures!"   
  
"Sensei, there aren't many illustrations. Besides, I think I'm skilled enough to keep a book away from one toddler," Kakashi fixes a beady eye on the exhausted man slumped over the dining table.  
  
"I still don't like it. When he learns to read, you better not be bringing that around."  
  
"Hnn. Maybe by the time he's learned to read, you'll have found him an actual babysitter," Kakashi remarks.   
  
"Speaking of skills, I think I'm growing soft," Minato mumbles into the table. When Kakashi's words sink in, he turns around to regard him. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to leave him with you all the time. It's just this last - Jiraiya's out of town and the Third was needed for the negotiations. And I didn't feel safe leaving him with anyone else with so many foreign nins in town," the guilt-ridden words spill out in a near babble. Kakashi surreptiously eyes the Hokage, checking for signs of strain. This wasn't typical behaviour.  
  
"Kakashi, you should really let me pay you or assign it as a mission. It's unfair to -"  
  
"I'm not a babysitting Genin or a guard dog. If I watch Naruto, it's because I want to," Kakashi replies calmly, forcing his brows not to quirk together. This always came up whenever Naruto was left in his care for more than a day. None of the reasons Sensei came up with ever held. There weren't many career records left for Hatake Kakashi to break and there was already talk of making him a full-fledged ANBU captain. Kakashi would never explain it, but he refused to take money from his Sensei.  
  
"Besides, he's just starting to talk so I reckon it will be a year or so before he can read. You have time to find someone, Sensei," Kakashi drawls, "And if you really want to pay me back, you can spar with me. Since you're going soft, I might actually land a hit. Imagine that. The Yellow Flash getting taken down by his student."  
  
He expects a cuff and a mock reprimand but Minato's face gains a pinched look.  
  
"I didn't realize you were here until I saw you.  And it took me longer than usual to get here using the seals, I really must be going soft," Minato confesses with a rueful grin that doesn't quite reach his eyes. There's an edge to his words that makes Kakashi uneasy and he sits up slowly, gently shifting Naruto down onto his lap.  
  
"You're just tired, Sensei," and he means it. It's not just in the way Minato's speaking to the table or the tired droop of his shoulders; it's not the fact that Minato's shoes are still on and have tracked snow sludge across the living room floor. Even a decade ago, when he'd dropped into a clearing and found a stupid-looking teenager with a naive smile instead of his jounin-sensei, even then he'd been attracted to the other's chakra signature; it was an imposing, intense beacon for anyone who knew to look (Minato had never been good at stealth). Now he can barely sense it, and he curses the Hokage's underlings, wonders how long the man has gone without food or sleep.  
  
"I'm the Hokage."  
  
"Still human, I think," Kakashi deadpans, forcing a chuckle out of Minato. "And you look like you haven't slept since Naruto was born," he says seriously.  
  
"I feel like I haven't slept since Naruto was born," Minato mumbles. Kakashi disappears with Naruto into the child's bedroom, returning a moment later to dump clean clothes and a towel on Minato's head.  
  
"Hey!"  
  
"It's fresh from the laundry." And with that, Minato is bemused to find himself being shepherded towards the bath. It takes him ten glorious long minutes under the hot shower to find some scant amusement in the reversal of roles. Kakashi is usually the one who needs to be forced to sleep, eat, breathe, remember to be human.  
  
The house echoes loudly when he steps out of the shower, dripping water on the polished parquet, and he realizes with a twinge of disappointment that Kakashi's left. The next moment he makes a beeline for the kitchen. Ramen!  
  
There are two takeout bowls stacked on the counter but his brief hope is dashed by the note.   
  
'There's food in the fridge but I know you'd wind up eating cup ramen anyway. And Sensei, both bowls are yours. Naruto's dinner is on stove. Do not feed him Ramen.  
  
-Your favorite student'.  
.....  
  
The pup yips at him and he idly feeds it a treat, feeling up its muscles and gauging how big it will grow. The nin-dog would soon be grown enough to undergo combat training. For now, he takes joy in the affectionate way the summon nuzzles at his fingers, licking at the small cut that he'd made to call out the rest of the pack, before tilting its head at him with a whine.  
  
"It's just a small cut," he lets the pup clamber into his lap as he settles against the headboard with his book, absently curling a hand into warm fur. Tomorrow, he would train. Right now, he just wanted to relax. It had been a tiring couple of weeks spent alone with Naruto while the child pined away for his father. The poor boy still wasn't accustomed to Minato's sporadic absences.   
  
"Where's the brat?" a small pug worms its way to his side, nudging the puppy when it growled at him. It wasn't unusual for Kakashi to use the dogs to distract Naruto. Over the years, the pack had adopted him and the child often gamboled around with them making Minato worry that Naruto would wind up liking dogs more than toads.   
  
"Home."  
  
"His dad's back then?"  
  
Kakashi nods, reaching over to scratch Pakkun's head. The pug's eyes closed in pleasure. "So what did you need us for?"  
  
"Just felt like checking up on you guys," he shrugs, trying to ignore the pug's knowing look.  
  
"That's all?" Pakkun pressed him.  
  
Kakashi hesitates for a moment. "It's going to be cold tonight."


	3. The summer chill

There were three Council reports, a missive from the Daimyo, five complaints from neighbouring villages, an intelligence report to look through ASAP-for-your-eyes-only, and a sticky blonde toddler on his desk.  
  
"Papa, let’s go park!"  
  
"Naruto, didn’t I tell you to play quietly?"  
  
"Park!" The boy insisted, the stubborn cast of his face was so reminiscent of Kushina that Minato could barely to look at it.  
  
"Naruto, not now," He deposited the toddler back into his playpen and secured it carefully. A better solution had to be found, it was getting ridiculously easy for Naruto to escape.  
  
The topmost scroll unfurled to reveal the familiar scrawl of his mentor and Minato tensed. Jiraiya never risked contact unless it was urgent. And for him to have sent it via hawk instead of a frog summon ... Minato rolled the scroll back up and ignited it with a mild fire jutsu, ignoring the scorch mark left on the table.   
  
"Up! Up!"

  
"Naruto, behave.”  
  
The child subsided at that and Minato bent over his desk again, steadily working through the pile. He grinned when he penned his final signature for the night.  
  
"Naru-chan, I'm done! Let's take a walk to the river -"  
  
The playpen was empty and a dull panic filled him as he rushed out of the room.   
  
Stay calm. Shinobi don't panic.   
  
There's no sign of the blonde anywhere in the house but his security wards were still up. He refused to entertain the possibility that this was an inside job. The ANBU Squad members in his security detail had been hand-picked, vouched for by trusted peers and his student.   
  
Genjustu, it must have been genjutsu.  
  
"Yondaime-sama," the Cat appeared in front of him, crouching on snow carpeted yard.  
  
"Where’s my son?" He snapped.  
  
"On the roof, with Ox-san. He wandered out a while ago and refused to go back in."  
  
"And you didn't think to inform me?" Relief turned to anger at her words.  
  
The Cat didn't answer and Minato regretted his outburst. Any shinobi worth the title should have been able to sense Naruto's whereabouts. The boy was not yet three but already had a bright, strong presence.   
  
"Naruto, come back inside," Minato called to the boy, taking the Ox's place beside him. "Naruto, it's cold," his only response was a soft hiccup. Naruto's eyes are rimmed red and there are drying tear trails running down his whiskered cheeks.  
  
His hands were shoved away again and again, and eventually Minato just sighed and dropped down beside the boy, inching over slowly until he could feel Naruto's warm - so small - shoulder against his.  
  
"I'm sorry about just now. I really had to finish my work, you know. Shimizu-chan would have had a fit if I hadn't. You remember her, don't you? She's really really scary when angry," he shuddered for effect.  
  
"Scary." The boy muttered, still refusing to meet his father’s eyes.  
  
"Yes, very, very scary. Like the time you drew all over my table at work. Do you remember?"  
  
Minato chided himself when he noticed the shivers wracking the small form beside him, the boy must have been out here for a long time. He had been harsh earlier, but this is the first time Naruto had reacted so badly to a reprimand.  
  
Maybe I've been spoiling him too much.   
  
But he can't bring himself to discipline the boy. A teary eyed look was usually enough for Naruto to get his way, but the boy rarely cried, almost never manipulated him that way.  
  
"Mm, I thought we could take a walk by the river but ... maybe Naruto should decide today? Where should we go?"  
  
"Out?"  
  
"Yes, out. I'm done with work. We can go anywhere, tonight."  
  
"Kashi!"  
  
"You want to see Kakashi?" He tried to ignore the way his chest twists painfully, an undefinable emotion tearing its way through him.  
  
"See Kakashi!" Naruto usually knew better than to ask. It had been explained time and time again - Kakashi was busy, he was almost never in the village.   
  
But Minato had said Naruto could pick their destination, and Kakashi had returned from a mission just a day ago. It was past dinnertime and an odd hour for a visit, but he knew Kakashi wouldn't complain. That was the problem, Kakashi never complained and Minato could never be sure whether the boy resented the intrusions into his life.   
  
He'd been mentoring Kakashi since the boy was a precocious five year old, had fully taken him under his wing after Sakumo's death and forced the boy to live again. Through it all, he had never been sure that Kakashi didn't resent him for interfering (for introducing him to Team Seven) but he'd never stopped to care. A decade later, things were ... somewhat different.  
  
"See Kakashi!" Naruto had that obstinate look on his face that Minato recognized all too well again. The boy really was his mother's son.   
  
If Kushina had been there, she'd have corrected him; that grim slant to the jaw and those lips thinned in determination belonged to Minato.  
  
"Alright. We can drop in on him for a bit, but I can't promise that he'll be there."  
  
....  
  
Normal Kages don't drop into apartments unannounced unless there’s a village emergency or an urgent (and very secret) mission to be assigned, but Hatake Kakashi was completely unsurprised (if unprepared) when the Fourth Hokage materialized in his apartment with nothing but a sunny grin and a slightly morose toddler clining to him. Naruto brightened the moment he caught sight of Kakashi leaning against the headrest, customary book in hand.  
  
"Kashi!" the squeal was loud enough to hurt a shinobi's sensitive ears. Especially when said shinobi was injured and hyper-aware of his surroundings.  
  
Minato's grin faded after a heartbeat and he snagged Naruto by the collar. "Not so fast. No jumping on him, Naruto. Kakashi's hurt, you know what that means, right? No climbing on him. Be gentle."  
  
Kakashi snapped the book shut, slipping it under his covers.   
  
Breathe, breathe, breathe. They weren't a security threat. This was Namikaze Minato, the Fourth Hokage of the Hidden Leaf Village, his Commander and former Sensei. Breathe. And that was his son, Naruto, he'd watched the boy before when no one else could, had let him clamber over his shoulders, arms, knees, a poor replacement for monkey bars, and blow raspberries in his ears. On occassion, he had allowed the boy to pull his mask down to his neck, baring his face to the world when no one else was around. Never mind that the Yellow Flash and the Kyuubi vessel were two of the most dangerous beings in shinobi circles. They were not threats, not to him. Friend, not foe, he forced the definition on himself and finally looked up.  
  
"It's okay, I'm not hurt that bad," his eyes curved. The words sounded hollow to him and he knew Minato must have noticed, but Naruto, innocent boisterous Naruto, just took the words as an invitation to clamber up onto the bed and begin blubbering about his week.  
  
"Did you miss the dogs?" That started off a rant about puppies and rain puddles and ramen and slowly, slowly, the tension bled from Kakashi's bones. Naruto's high, shrill voice was still too loud, his excitement too raw and uncontained, and the orange vest he was wearing was far too red, but fraction by fraction Kakashi relaxed, at least to the visible eye.  
  
"Pakkun!" Naruto crowed out as the pug padded through the balcony door.  
  
"Yo, kid. Evening, Hokage-sama. Boss, you didn't tell me we would have guests?" Pakkun nimbly dodged Naruto's lunge and herded the boy until he lay flat on the floor, giggling as the dour pug poked his tummy.  
  
"Ah, it’s my fault for dropping in so suddenly," Minato scratched his head sheepishly, "Naruto wanted to visit and I reckoned Kakashi would be home. I didn't know you were injured, Kakashi," his blue eyes regarded Kakashi steadily as he moved closer to the bed.   
  
"Was it a training injury?"   
  
There hadn't been any major mission-related injuries reported recently. Yet, here his student was, two days back from what was supposed to have been a routine mission and still laid up in bed, preternaturally alert in the way shinobi tended to get when they were feeling vulnerable.

Minato had never seen Kakashi looking more fragile than he did now, pale skin bruised and sallow, face drawn in exhaustion and stress.  
  
"Did you finally let Maito spar with you?"  
  
"I can handle Gai!"  
  
Minato merely smirked and finally sat down on the bed. "So you're on a first name basis, now?"  
  
"Shut up, Sensei," Kakashi growled. He had tried his best to keep Gai at a distance, but the bowl-headed Chuunin was beginning to wear him down. With people like Gai, it was just too exhausting to work at keeping them out. Kakashi ran a bandaged hand through his hair.  
  
"Chakra burns?" Minato gestured at the visible bandages.  
  
"Jutsu collision, it was a close call. I have to step things up with the Chidori, but you should see the other guy," Kakashi replied tersely.  
  
"That's rare," the Hokage's eyes narrowed. The Chidori was raw, concentrated lighting, a rare combination of nature and form manipulation that was often used to deadly effect. Even the Rasengan could barely counter it. "I thought you were on a routine escort mission?" It was alarming that Kakashi had encountered such a powerful enemy while on a B-rank.  
  
"I went on another one yesterday, was just about to get Pakkun to deliver the report. Don't lecture me, Sensei," Kakashi tried to prevent the lecture.  
  
"I'm still your Hokage," Minato was surprised at his level tone, but he'd already lost his temper once this day. And unlike Naruto, Kakashi was not easy to pacify when slighted. "It's my business to lecture one of my shinobi when they take unnecessary risks. And any Jounin should know better than to go on a mission the day after a long escort assignment," Minato said.  
  
"I had to go."  
  
"What?"  
  
"ANBU orders," Kakashi shrugged, focusing on the tangle of boy and dog rolling around on his bedroom floor.  
  
"You could have refused."  
  
"No, I couldn't."  
  
The Yondaime couldn't understand, he'd gone straight from losing his team to working his way through the Jounin exam, determined to become faster, stronger, better in a way that had nothing (much) to do with the Squad, with the expectations that captains would say _jump_ and their subordinates would do without question. Just months later he'd taken on the position of Jounin-sensei when Jiraiya and the Sandaime had pleaded a too-young Genin's case to him.  
  
I should have refused, shouldn't I?   
  
Minato felt ashamed for even thinking it but sometimes, he blamed himself. He knew Kakashi was mostly a product of the Village, of the damn Shinobi world and their rules and the War, but he'd set out to change this very world. He needed to never ever let six year olds loose on the battlefield, no matter how much the Village needed them. And he wondered why his predecessor had trusted him with the village's youngest soldier, wondered if he'd failed somehow in that duty.   
  
There were mumurs sometimes, remarks made about the 'White Fang's Legacy' by foreign shinobi that he would never ever mention to Kakashi. Once, just once, a Council member had praised the Fourth for raising such a fine Tool for the Leaf. The man was cautious never to be left alone in a room with him since; he was convinced that the Leaf's latest Kage was a demon with cold sapphire eyes.  
  
It hurt that even the Hokage wasn't strong enough to protect everyone, not even the ones he cared about the most. Kakashi had to be allowed to make his own mistakes.  
  
"When Naruto graduates, you'll be his Jounin-sensei," Minato didn't know where the words were coming from, but they sounded right.   
  
"Sensei, have you been drinking?"   
  
Minato scowled at the question. "No, I'm serious. Promise me," he demanded belligerently.   
  
Promise me you'll stick around.  
  
"Can't we discuss this when it happens? Naruto hasn't even turned three."   
  
Kakashi understood when he met Minato's eyes. Underneath the underneath, it wasn't like Sensei to be so subtle but even Sensei had to change. Even the Hokage, or rather, especially the Hokage had to be underhanded instead of blunt.  
  
"No, promise me," Minato glared.  
  
"Fine, if I'm still around, and if Jiraiya-sama doesn't get to him first," he smiled at Sensei, refusing to make things easy for the other man. He wouldn't make empty promises.

  
Minato took revenge by pulling the covers down. It was Kakashi's turn to glare fiercely but Minato didn't notice, his attention was focused on the bloodied bandages wrapped around a pale chest.   
  
"You should have gone to the hospital. Here, sit up and let me change them," he tugged at Kakashi, frowning when the command wasn't obeyed immediately.  
  
Then Kakashi was shaking, his slight frame straining at the exertion and Minato cursed at himself. Chakra depletion; he was no medic-nin and hadn't been on many missions with Kakashi since Obito had –   
  
But it’s no excuse. He had read the reports, he knew about the tremendous strain the Sharingan placed on Kakashi’s chakra coils and he was the damn Hokage. He should have noticed the obvious signs.   
  
He leaned across Kakashi, intending to provide support, before a whimper and a hissed "Sensei, my knee!" had him scrambling back up and off the bed. Kakashi settled back down into a supine position. They were both breathing hard in the space of thirty seconds, and there were two pairs of eyes watching them now. The commotion had distracted Pakkun and Naruto from their play.  
  
"Papa?" Naruto had scampered over in concern, the poor boy was probably wondering what his father was doing to his beloved Kashi.  
  
"It's okay, Naruto. Go help Pakkun find the medicine kit," he shooed the boy away. Pakkun trotted away with a slightly dubious backward glance. He knew the tall blonde was the Hokage and Kakashi's sensei but the flustered man hardly seemed reliable.  
  
"Sorry, I'm just … not very good at this?" He tried a rueful grin. He'd really, genuinely, never had reason to nursemaid another man. Things had been so much easier when Kakashi was younger. The boy usually took care of his own scrapes, and before Rin had come along, he'd still been tiny enough to be hauled off to the hospital with force.   
  
On the rare occassion that another teammate had been injured enough to warrant treatment on the field, it hadn't quite been so ... awkward. All shinobi had boundaries and when you worked on a team, you learned those boundaries within the first day out on camp. He scratched at his temple sheepishly, it had been too long since he'd taken on a field mission and even longer since he'd gone on one with Kakashi.  
  
"I'm fine, honestly," Kakashi gritted out.  
  
"It's me or the hospital."  
  
"I think I'd be better off without your ... ministrations." Kakashi was not a forgiving person.  
  
"Maybe you should tell me where you're injured. That way I can avoid hurting you more," Minato smiled at him again, knowing that Kakashi would come around. A long moment passed as sensei and student locked wills, before Kakashi sighed and wilted against the headrest.  
  
"Ribs, the right knee and ankle. I ran low on chakra but I needed Pakkun to deliver the report."

Sensei never cared about what he wanted. It was easy to cooperate to make this less painful on himself but that didn't make Minato's beaming face any easier to bear. Sometimes he hated the damn Namikazes and the way they had him wrapped around their fingers.  
  
........  
  



	4. Chapter 4

March  
  
Winter was turning to spring when the Wolf was finally placed back on the active list. His ANBU squad had dispersed in the time he was gone, and when he first heard the news, the Wolf had assumed he would be returning to solo missions. He didn't mind really. Even amongst a generation bred for War, he'd always been too far ahead of his peers, always been considered an upstart by his elders, and being on a team has always driven some part of him distraction. It was almost a relief to go on missions alone. But fate (or a certain former sensei) had intervened and Kakashi found his first mission back as the only ANBU veteran in a squad made up of new blood.  
  
The boy was too passive and too young in the manner of those who hadn't truly killed, the girl with long, purple tresses flowing down her back was too jumpy, and the grizzled Chuunin who thought he'd seen it all was far too careless. The Wolf knew this squad was not going to end well. To be ANBU meant to be Shinobi, in the truest sense of the word, and only that, nothing more and nothing else. It was fine to have a child and or a lover to return home, it was encouraged in fact, attachment made you fight harder. It was what made the Leaf shinobi strong, they were conditioned to fight for more than themselves. But the ANBU, while on a mission, had to just be shinobi, there was no room for emotions like fear or apathy or arrogance, just the completion of their mission, quick, fast and ruthless for the village. It was like going to War, minus the fields of dead and the dying best friends, because ANBU never ever went on missions with friends or strayed too far from the shadows.  
  
The Wolf was right as usual. The Chuunin died half an hour into the second skirmish with the target's bodyguards and the girl only escaped because of the boy and his bloodline limit. The Wolf is too occupied, his hands full with taking out the enemy to notice. But the moment their objective was accomplished, his hands thrusted deep into the chest of an affluent merchant, a well-placed kunai mercifully ending the life of a small bright-haired girl (a pretty little thing who might have grown into a gorgeous woman), her eyes glazed over in horror even before she slumped to the ground, life taken too swiftly to scream (or do anything else), he gathered up the girl in his hands and fled with the boy, leaving his dogs to detain the survivors.  
  
They spent the night in a wooden house, safe from the forest's denizens but still not secure enough to light a fire, and the Wolf could sense the other ANBU’s growing despair as easily as he could track a man by scent. When he finished wrapping the girl's form in gauze, applying the rudimentary healing techniques he had been taught – trying all the while not to think of a sweet voice and soft brown hair and how she would have been just this tall and perhaps just as well-developed - he snapped the porcelain mask to the side and waited.   
  
The Wolf wasn't completely sure what to say, but he knew that something had to be done to calm the other shinobi, the problem couldn't be ignored.   
  
There was only chill wind whistling through the air, it was a balmy spring night and he almost turned around and went to sleep. Disposing of the Chuunin's body had taken more out of him that he would admit, and the Badger was too inexperienced, too young to know the proper seals and the proper way. He hadn't even meant to stay, it had taken the Wolf's intervention. "Don't turn your back on him. Never turn away from a fallen comrade, or even an opponent. If you can, never turn away from one who dies in front of you. It's all we can do," he'd said more than intended but all that mattered was that the Badger had turned back around and watched. It was the least they could do.  
  
A nugget of philosophy a day was more than the Wolf could bear to impart and he wanted to shirk the duty, lie back and wait for dawn to arrive, but then he heard it, the soft snap as a mask was removed, and the clack as it hit the wooden floor.  
  
"First time?"  
  
"Y-yeah," the boy studied the floor. "I wasn't expecting," the boy gesticulated wildly and the Wolf nearly smirked. There was no gesture that could describe it. The death of a comrade, the near decapitation of someone who had taken a blow on your part and bled for you, and now in some twisted sense, died in your place, because even if the shinobi hadn't been standing in front of you, it was all about him instead of you. And then there was the training, the conditioning. The ANBU put the mission first. The Wolf was an exception. Most shinobi would have left the girl bleeding to death and prioritized the return of the valuable scrolls to Konoha.  
  
"No one ever does, all we can do is react." He watched the boy covertly. The trembling has stopped and he could study the other's face in the dim moonlight. The eyes were almost familiar and he wondered why and how this boy existed, decided that it was not his place to pry but the Hokage would learn of this.  
  
"I don't know if I reacted right," the boy said softly, gaze still directed at his hands which had let go of a kunai in surprise when a man's breast had been impaled upon it.  
  
"You're alive, that's all that matters with these things," the Wolf wasn't comfortable with the words but he's surprised to find that he wasn't uncomfortable either.  
  
"I guess," the Badger looked up then and his eyes widened in surprise. Everyone knew the ANBU Wolf had silver hair. He was lethally fast, known as an assasination specialist with an impressive success ratio. The Corp veterans spoke of him with respect, and wanted him on their teams. But until now, the Badger had never realized ...  
  
In the moonlight streaming through an empty window, the teenager in front of him was unguardedly beautiful and impossibly young for an accomplished assasin. It was not beauty or youth though that made the Badger gape in shock. The scar down the eyelid, the mask under a mask, he knew this not-quite face. This was the Yondaime's prodigy. He had never imagined that even a Hokage's disciple would be made to dirty his hands.  
  
"Hmm?" Kakashi raised an eyebrow, bemused at the way the Badger had gone from the verge of a break to almost comical shock.  
  
"You're Hatake Kakashi."  
  
The Wolf frowned at the reverence in the tone and the disbelief radiating off the younger shinobi. It was disgusting really, and entirely Sensei's fault that everyone could recognize him on sight; it made him want to buy another mask. How was he supposed to know that Sensei would grow up to be the Yondaime? When they had met, the blonde had been a rough, unfinished seventeen. It wasn't until much later, after Kakashi had discovered the 101 stupid ways of Namikaze Minato and irrevocably lost the chance to revere the man as anything other than Sensei, that Sensei had become a legend. He wasn't the Hokage's disciple, he had been one of Namikaze Minato's students and that was all there was to it.  
  
"You know, it's only fair that I know your name too," he stared the boy down.  
  
"I'm ... Tenzo," the boy stumbled over his own name awkwardly, as though he wasn't used to giving it out. Kakashi wasn't fazed, had expected as much. "I thought you would be older," Tenzo said.  
  
"Why? Silver is a natural hair color," Kakashi was defensive about his hair.  
  
"No, I mean, you look so young. I thought the Wolf was older. And ... I thought Hatake Kakashi was older too," Tenzo mumbled.  
  
"Well, I'm not. But I'm older than you," Kakashi couldn't resist the jibe. He was weary of being the youngest, it was good to have someone to pick on. Naruto didn't count, the toddler would just grin stupidly or cry.  
  
"Are you?"  
  
"I'm seventeen," it slipped out. Exchanging personal information was usually taboo on ANBU missions. But the Badger, Tenzo, didn't know that yet.  
  
"Oh," Tenzo blinked in surprise, "I'm fifteen, I thought you were younger because I'm taller," he smiled slightly at that.  
  
"I'm not done growing," Kakashi growled before he stalked over to the girl to check on her wounds. His height was another sore issue. "Take first watch, wake me if you notice anything," he slipped into his bed and promptly went to sleep, leaving a surprised Tenzo to gape at his superior. No one told him that the ANBU Wolf was quite like ... this. Tenzo would soon learn that the Wolf was only so capricious with him; it would remain a source of pride and chagrin for him in the years to come. 


	5. Spring

April

A knock disturbed him but Minato didn't move. "Is that a new way of reading?"  
  
There were very few shinobi who would be snide with him and with a single exception, all of them were older than him by decades. This voice was deep but youthful, and if he listened hard enough, he could still recall the high timbres of a very young student. He bent his elbows and settled into a more comfortable configuration in his chair, belatedly noting that reading with your neck tipped over the headrest of your chair was not a good idea in any circumstance. He braced his sore neck against an arm and watched Kakashi from a titled worldview.  
  
"And what is your business today with the Hokage?"  
  
"Is this place secure?" That made Minato lean back in his chair, fingers steepled as he considered for a moment before dismissing the guards and bringing his wards to life. Kakashi was not one to ask such a question lightly.  
  
"It is now."  
  
"Hokage-sama, what do you know about ANBU's Badger?"  
  
"Badger? Is he a new recruit? I don't recognize the callsign but I haven't reviewed the ANBU personnel records from last quarter," he went scrabbling through the stacks around his desk.  
  
Kakashi nodded to himself.  
  
"And what do you know of a Tenzo?" Minato stopped his search and looked up. It was completely unheard of for an ANBU to break protocol and reveal another's callsign. The entire nature of the organization hinged upon the fact that they were hidden nin, ghosts within the system.   
  
Technically, there was no harm in revealing the callsign to the Hokage, he was the ultimate ranking officer, he had all their files; he was supposed to have all their files. Even so, he could understand why Kakashi had needed the security and the official audience.  
  
"Never heard the name. Why?"  
  
"He's a rookie with the Shodaime's bloodline."  
  
"Mokuton?" Minato could hardly keep disbelief out of his voice. The Slug Princess was the last of the true descendants of the Senju clan and even she had not inherited the ability.  
  
"I saw it with my own eyes. He created a wooden house for the night and his attacks mostly relied on the Mokuton element," Kakashi confirmed. The Yondaime pursed his lips before he finally settled back into his chair. He didn't look surprised anymore.  
  
"You were right to bring this to me." There was renewed appreciation in his eyes for his pupil. Sometimes, Minato forgot that Hatake Kakashi had been a prodigy long before he had become a shinobi, long before had become know for his Sharingan. He wouldn't make that mistake again. Know your strengths and weaknesses, your friends and foes well, it was a lesson the fallen Sandaime had hammered into him.   
  
Even as he sat through negotiation after negotiation and drafted endless proposals, fighting to secure peace for the village from external threats, the Hokage knew that he had to be aware of the workings, on-goings, and tensions within his Village. This was easier said than done. The ANBU rarely broke their ranks, the nature of their missions and historical roots meant that they often operated outside the regular Leaf hierarchy. And for many of the Old Guard, power was more than a means to an end, it was a carefully hoarded commodity. Three years and some into his reign as Hokage, there was still much about the Leaf that he did not know; the Sandaime had passed far too early and far too abruptly.  
  
The macabre underground lab discovered in the wake of Orochimaru's departure had only been the first of the monstrosities. Illegitimate experiments or not, he had not been able to believe that the Sandaime had even authorized the building of such a lab. Presently though, it was more worrying that he had been led to believe that none of the rescued children had survived long.  
  
"Kakashi, I need you to do something," the Yondaime paused, this was not an easy command to give. "I know ANBU Command has been pushing you to accept a permanent elevation to Captain. Accept it. Cease contact with me in public in the months to come, let it be gradual." There was only one way at present to dig to the root of any possible treachery within the ANBU. Infiltration.  
  
Some part of him whispered that the Sandaime had not been so different, and look where that had gotten him. But if you could not place your trust in those you had mentored and raised, who else could you trust in? Perhaps he would try to show that he was not the Sandaime, he would count on the elders' beliefs that the young were quick to rebel to serve as a cloak for this mission.

 


	6. Because I could not stop for Death ...

Water-logged branches drooped to the ground under the unrelenting rain; somewhere in the forest, there is a loud crack as a bough breaks under pressure and tumbles into a fast river, lost forever to the Leaf.   
  
There is no rhyme or reason to misery - the stormclouds and chilly needles of rain stinging at his visible eye and skin make little difference to the still figure in front of the stone. There is no why or how, just the knowledge that someone is gone and will never be back. Kakashi thinks it's completely unfair to have to live for someone's death when you never really asked the price. But of course, Obito had never cared about right/wrong, fair/unfair. He'd just known what he wanted and his body had reacted. Kakashi never had a say.  
  
The presence by his side is familiar but he nearly bridles when he notices it. What right, does this man have? If this man had been faster, stronger, a better teacher, more insistent he learn to work with a team -   
  
Then he notices it. The Hokage's eyes are unfocused, collapsed inward in grief, and Kakashi remembers the date, remember that loss is not his privilege and burden alone, especially not in a shinobi village. And as painful and life-altering as it was to watch a teammate die in front of you, because of you, he couldn't imagine watching your wife, soul-mate and best friend give up her life in front of you. Minato never talks about it and he's never dared to ask, never really wanted to know the answers and been content with fooling himself most of the time.  
  
What does it feel like to watch the mother of your newborn child die?  
  
Sometimes, he thinks that Minato's single-minded dedication to the village is because of her. And Kakashi would understand really, it made sense to try and preserve what Uzumaki Kushina had died for. Except, in moments like this, he knows Sensei is going about it the wrong way, is too wrapped up in not-breaking and being Hokage to let himself remember why Kushina died.   
  
He had a reason to understand Kushina, more reason than Sensei perhaps. Because Sensei could never have known what it was like to love Namikaze Minato.   
  
Hatake Kakashi would have traded places with Uzumaki Kushina in a heartbeat, his place lazing around on the Namikaze family couch for her tomb in the ground, wished he'd been there at her death to do so. Because Namikaze Minato would have been whole with Kushina by his side, he would have been perfect. And because Namikaze Naruto would have had a family, wouldn't ever have had to know the hurtful silence of an afternoon, upon afternoon, spent alone in a large empty house that echoed when you tried to run around and meet yourself - no one else - on the way back.  
  
"You're eighteen today. Lemme buy you a drink, something stronger," Minato slurs. Kakashi doesn't bother pointing out that shinobi - the Hokage - shouldn't drink. This is a side of Minato he's never seen; this is the man who used to hide Jiraiya's purse and drag him out of bars with a fierce glint in his eyes. This is Sensei who taught him never to turn to anything but life for the answers. He wonders why the man even has alcohol in the house.  
  
But Kushina isn't here and that makes all the difference. It's the kind of stupid thing Obito would have done, with no thought for the consequences, but Kakashi ends up accepting the offer anyway. The simple absolute truth, more fact than a truth really, is that there is no one else.  
  
This is how his eighteenth birthday is spent:  
  
First drink of strong shochu; sends a hot warm flush through him and a blush spreads across his cheeks as he tries so so hard not to splutter because he's a shinobi, it would be unbecoming.  
  
First kiss; is taken from him, long and lingering and everything really that he had ever dreamed of, except it wasn't. He can taste bitter alcohol on his lips, burning his tongue and throat and stomach as he lets himself go.  
  
First confession; "I thought you died and I wanted to follow," he admits before kissing back. It's nothing new and nothing old, but he hopes Minato doesn't notice, hasn't committed it to memory.  
  
First broken heart; it happens when he's lying there too sated to move, semen cooling between his legs and a muscled back pressed against his oversensitive skin. His eye is burning fiercely; he wants to weep red. He hadn't even had the decency to shield Obito from this but Obito isn't crying, likely doesn't know what to make of this. Kakashi was always a little strange, but never depraved. No one had suspected him of habouring a genuine crush on Minato for so long. All they had seen was a boy and his devotion to his mentor. It had never been strange or untoward. After all, who wouldn't lay their lives down for the Fourth Hokage? Who wouldn't have followed the Yellow Flash wherever he insisted?   
  
First love; gets laid to rest. Panic makes him consider genjutsu, the Sharingan is powerful and this inebriated wreck of a man would be no match. But this is a shinobi village and he is ANBU. He had sworn to protect this very man. Obito would never forgive him for using genjutsu on -  
  
He puts each memory away, locks it where a heart would be; it is fitting that this is merely an addition to the disgraceful collection of the last Hatake. It makes sense to him that the last piece involves the only human who tried to prevent his fall. The ache in his eye intensifies but strangely, so strangely, it is the crippling pain in the chest that brings him to his knees. There is barely strength left in him to crook his fingers and summon the chakra required to disappear to his cold, pristine apartment.  
  
....  
  
When the first rays of sunlight pierce through the windows and rouse him, Minato uncurls languidly from his position on the bed. His head is pounding but his body is satisfied and unwilling to move. He hasn't felt this content since -  
  
Kushina died. Kushina is dead, he forces himself to think. What or who had he spent last night with?  
  
His memory of the night is lost in an alcoholic haze. The headache is proof of that. Last night, he had made Jiraiya disappointed in him and proved himself to be lightweight in the alcohol tolerance department.   
  
He clears his mind methodically. Even if he is decidedly ashamed of himself for sleeping with a stranger, he has to remember. It simply would not do to have slept with the enemy or inadvertently let classified information slip. If the need arose, he would have to track down his bed-partner and reach a compromise, or simply requisition the services of a Sharingan-user to modify certain memories. The security of the Hidden Leaf came before everything else. Too bad you weren't thinking of that last night.

 


	7. The dead of winter

The fifteenth time Tenzo tried not to stare, the Wolf leveled him with a glare. 

Tenzo controlled the shiver. The Wolf rarely spoke these days. No one knew what had brought it on, but the Wolf was even colder and far grimmer than he had ever been. If Tenzo had met this Wolf all those months ago, he would not have warmed to the shinobi.

"Senpai," he said slowly, "Did you do something to your eye?" There is no response. "I know it's a Sharingan but, it doesn't look like a normal Sharingan anymore."

And it's true, the Uchiha he'd partnered with had the ability to activate their bloodline at will, transforming coal black eyes into twin Sharingans; it was almost frightening to stare into swirling red orbs, each pupil surrounded by tomoes. The Wolf only had one Sharingan and it was always activated. Before, it had been 'normal', as normal as any Sharingan eye could get. Now it was truly frightening; the eye was a red orb bisected by a pair of shuriken that swirled threateningly whenever they caught him looking, it was almost as though the eye had a sentience of its own.

He wondered if the transformation had anything to do with the Wolf's grimness.


End file.
